


Keep Your Enemies Closer

by TaraHarkon



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Awkward Crush, Betrayal, Blow Jobs, Chess, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Guilt, Masturbation, Miscommunication, Multi, Mutual Masturbation, Past Character Death, Pining, Polyamory, Polyamory Negotiations, Post-Canon, Reapers, Redemption, Reincarnation, Sexual Fantasy, Sibling fights, unstable liches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-24
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2020-07-19 05:50:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,181
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19969063
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TaraHarkon/pseuds/TaraHarkon
Summary: Edward was a prisoner in the Eternal Stockade and that was just how things were. So why was Reaper Barry Bluejeans suddenly appearing in his cell on a regular basis? And why was he looking forward to those visits?





	1. Chapter 1

One of Edward's ears flicked just slightly as he heard a sound behind him. Usually, nothing moved in the small cell he called his space within the Astral Plane. He refused to call it home. Home was a place he hadn't seen in, well, centuries. It certainly wasn't this squalid place with the bed he refused to use and its lone table. 

"Edward?"

The sound had been the door opening, it seemed. The voice belonged to one of his jailers, the Reaper called Barry Bluejeans, one of the two who galled him far more than did their supervisor. Kravitz was understandable. Some sort of servant of the Raven Queen who had died in her service and earned an eternity at her hand, no doubt. These two were liches, just the same as him. And yet, somehow they had gotten a forgiveness he was never offered.

"What do you want?"

He didn't turn, didn't even open his eyes. Why bother? All he really wanted was to be left alone.

"I just wanted to talk. Maybe play a little chess, if you're up for it."

Chess. Edward could have laughed. He did finally turn at that, turning bright eyes on Barry and looking him over from bottom to top. Did the man even realize what he was saying? Did he remember what he and his sister had done to his friend with the staff? Edward leaned back, half lounging so he could look up at Barry with his head tilted to the side and legs crossed.

"Fascinating. The last time I played chess with one of your little bunch, it didn't end so well for her."

He expected the Reaper to get angry, to tense up, to react somehow. Anything. They were the good guys, the ones who constantly talked about bullshit like compassion and friendship. Shouldn't he be the one to care about hurt to a friend? Instead, he held out a chessboard and grinned.

"I think you'll find I'm a lot better at the game than Luce is."

That got a mirroring grin from Edward and he gestured expansively at the floor.

"Well then, Reaper Bluejeans, why don't you pull up a piece of the delightful stone floor you have here and we'll see if you're as good as you think you are."

Laughing, Barry dropped to sit opposite Edward and began laying the pieces out. None of this made any sense. Eyes slightly narrowed, Edward watched Barry in silence. Somewhere here, there was an explanation if he just dug deep enough. Maybe this was Lydia's latest trick? Was the man being compelled or possessed? Not as far as he could tell. Then Barry glanced up at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Can I help you?"

Edward chuckled quietly, almost surprised Barry had even noticed him watching.

"Just trying to decide what your long game is. After all, why else would you be in here? You must have a game."

Barry didn't even flinch.

"Only game I've got is chess. And you've got the first move."

* * *

They had been playing like this for a few months, with Edward trying to poke and pry to get a clue to what was happening and Barry managing to stay just one step ahead of him  _ somehow _ . It was frustrating, really. If someone had told him a year before that he would be spending his days trying and failing to sort out the inner workings of a middle-aged human, he would have laughed himself silly. Now he was just shy of grinding his teeth in frustration while trying his level best to outwardly appear calm and comfortable and in control of himself.

Then out of the blue, Barry leaned forward with curiosity on his face. Edward noticed but ignored him, instead refilling his glass from the pitcher of fruit juice sitting beside them and taking a sip. Then Barry took a breath and spoke.

"I don't understand. I mean... I know what you and your sister did, I saw it first hand. But here's the thing that doesn't make any sense. Why? You had each other and... and your bonds. Even if that wasn't enough, you had memories right?" Edward's ears pinned back as annoyance and something uncomfortably like guilt shot through him, but Barry plowed right on. "Unless... was your lich ceremony that different from mine?"

Edward shook his head, looking down at the chessboard. He could just not answer. That was entirely within his rights and it would serve Barry right for all these damn questions. Except then he looked up again and saw the way Barry was looking at him, eyebrows knit with concern. That was ridiculous but... Edward answered, his voice soft.

"It was Lydia's idea, if I'm being perfectly honest." He moved one of his pieces and examined the board again. "We had thought that between our bonds to each other and... and our love for our brother, that we would be alright. We discovered that other emotions would work by accident just when things were looking bad for us. You saw for yourself just how powerful suffering can be."

His voice pitched up despite himself towards the end of what he was saying. Dammit, he was supposed to have control. But just as he started to look down to exert control over himself again, he realized that Barry had reached over and put a hand on his arm.

"Hey, it's okay. You made a mistake. And it was a pretty shitty one, but that's in the past. It's not like you don't have the chance now to move past it."

Edward stared meaningfully at Barry's hand until he pulled back. Then he shrugged.

"I suppose, but really, one sideshow event full of torture and one very near apocalypse doesn't usually lead to a path of forgiveness. Particularly not when you're stuck in death prison."

For a long moment, silence hung between them and Edward thought that would be that. Barry would give up whatever he was trying to do and they could just go back to the game. Edward didn't need any sort of forgiveness or validation from Barry Bluejeans, that was for certain.

But then...

"Then what do you think I'm doing, Edward?"

Edward opened and closed his mouth several times. What the hell was that supposed to mean?

"You- you think- You're trying to-"

Each time, he cut himself off again, his ears flicked up in surprise and confusion. And then Barry had the gall to give him a smile. A  _ smile _ . As though they were friends or something.

"I mean... yeah. At bottom, you did what you did for... for a lot of the same reasons I did. For your family, you know? And I figure, if you'd risk your soul for them, you can't be all bad, right?"

Edward's jaw tightened. Not all bad?  _ Not all bad? _ Did Barry even remember who he was? Did he even remember what Wonderland was? And anyway, if they really were anything alike then Keats would have-

He picked up one of his bishops and moved it across the board, setting it down with a decisive tap.

"Check and mate. So I suppose that's it for today, isn't it? You'd best be going, Reaper Bluejeans."

He shoved the board towards Barry and stood, heading back towards his usual meditation spot and the blankets he'd folded there as a mat. He could hear Barry moving around behind him, gathering the scattered pieces up, no doubt. Well, fine. Let him.

"Edward, I-"

One of Edward's ears flicked and he responded without turning.

"You'll be back again tomorrow, won't you, darling? Delightful. But  _ until then _ ."

His voice turned icy and a moment later he heard the door open and close. Once it was closed, his shoulders slumped and his ears drooped. What the hell was he doing?

* * *

Edward Elmenda sat alone in his cell once some days later, ears resting at a comfortable neutral while he closed his eyes and settled into a trance. He was trying to work through a puzzle. It was patently obvious that there was more going on here than there appeared to be on the surface. He was as sure of that as he was of his sister. The real question was, what was going on? Sure, on the surface it seemed like Barry was just being friendly, but he was a Reaper. Reapers were not kind and friendly fellows who came and visited their death criminal prisoners to play chess. That just wasn't how things worked. Which meant that if it was happening, then Reaper Bluejeans was up to something.

He kept having to remind himself to think of the man only as Reaper Bluejeans. Despite several weeks of socializing, they absolutely were not friends. This was... was... fantasy stockholm syndrome. That was it. That was the only reason he was even remotely willing to be charitable towards his  _ captor _ . As if they had anything in common.

But the twins had heard and the Story and Song just the same as everyone else, even if they had taken that opportunity to escape from the Astral Plane. And he knew perfectly well that Bar-  _ Reaper Bluejeans _ had become a lich as he'd said. And he'd done it for his wife, for his family. Edward's throat felt tight and he squeezed his eyes together more tightly. Could they even really say they'd done this for Keats any more? They had discovered their affinity for necromancy trying to save him, certainly, but they hadn't become liches until... until after. No, he was nothing like Reaper Bluejeans who had somehow subverted this dark ritual and powered himself on love. Edward and Lydia Elmenda had only fought against death because they had seen mortality firsthand and found their fear.

The door pushed open slightly and he grimaced, one ear flicking slightly as he tried to decide which of the Reapers it was today. Had one of the others come to take him to task for upsetting Reaper Bluejeans? No. No, those steps were too heavy to be either an elf or a half-elf. Which meant Bar-  _ Reaper Bluejeans, dammit.  _ Which meant that Reaper Bluejeans was back.

"Uh... hey. Edward. I... I don't know if you're up for playing again today but I thought... uh... I brought some leftovers if you wanted some chili and I wanted to... to apologize."

Edward did turn at that, ears suddenly flicking up. Barry stood in the doorway, not in his uniform suit and cloak but in jeans and a battered old IPRE t-shirt of bright red. Held in his hands was a small container of chili with just a bit of steam rising from the surface. It smelled delicious. Raising an eyebrow, Edward got to his feet.

"In case you've forgotten, Reaper Bluejeans, we're both dead. Do you even eat?"

Barry shrugged a little, an almost boyish expression on his face.

"I mean, I'm alive...ish? It's complicated and involves a cloning tank. But uh... You can eat here. I asked first so it wouldn't be like... insensitive to bring you food, you know?"

A noncommittal hum of acknowledgment was the only response Edward gave him. Barry's shoulders slumped and he set the little container on the table by the bed before retreating towards the door.

"Well, if you want it, it's there. I'll just... go, I guess." He paused in the doorway for a moment. "I mean it, though. I don't know exactly what I did wrong, but... but I know something I said bothered you, and I'm sorry for that." His hand was on the door, pulling it closed behind him as he stepped out into the corridor. "I'll come back later to grab the dish."

Edward waited for a moment, watching Barry retreat from the room. Then he went to pick up the small clay bowl. It was pleasantly warm to the touch and a spoon had been left beside it. Inside was a thick and hearty chili, dark brown and aromatic. Sitting on the floor with his back against the heavy wooden door, he tentatively tasted it. It was rich with flavors, each spice blending with the others in brilliant ways. Had Barry  _ made _ this? Then he remembered another bit of the Story and chuckled. No, of course not. Not the man who had managed to boil water wrong. Probably Lup then. Which implied that Lup was also involved in this so-called apology.

Fascinating.

He took another taste, savoring the way it warmed him up from inside. Being warm was such a novel concept after so long as a lich. The undead simply were not warm. His mind briefly went back to Barry's hand resting on his arm and Edward's jaw tightened. Just because he was cold didn't mean he needed to chase someone else for their warmth. He would eat this and then nothing else. He didn't need  _ Reaper Bluejeans _ coming here and pitying him. He had ruled Wonderland with his sister for centuries. This human lich was nothing compared to him. And he certainly didn't need anything the man had to offer.

When he'd finished, he set the bowl and spoon back on the table and went back to his corner to meditate. Maybe this time, he would find a solution to his Reaper problem.

* * *

He hadn't come back. Well, alright, he had come back to grab the bowl just like he'd said, but he hadn't even said anything to break Edward out of his trance and that was just rude. Who comes into your room and doesn't even say  _ hi _ ? Honestly, the nerve. And it had been over a week since then, near as Edward could tell. It was, admittedly, hard to gauge the exact time in this eternal twilight world where the sky never changed. Not, of course, to imply that his suite in the fantasy Ritz here afforded him an actual view of the sky. That would be a luxury that clearly he no longer deserved.

No, he'd been counting the hours, going through his meditation routines until he had them clocked perfectly. It had been at least ten days, he was certain of that. And he hadn't seen hide nor hair of the Reaper known as Barry Bluejeans. It would've been annoying if it wasn't unnerving. Which lead him to the next question, which was why this was bothering him so damn much.

Edward stopped in his pacing and turned to face the door. His ears were pinned back in anger and frustration and he grabbed the little table beside his bed. With a growl, he flung it at the opposite wall as hard as he could, taking some brief glee in the sound as it shattered to pieces. And then, only a moment later, it reformed beside his still unused bed. He dropped to his knees, just staring at the place where those shards of wood had been.

Once, he had been the lord and master of Wonderland, the architect of the suffering of hundreds, thousands even. Now? He couldn't even reshape his own bedroom. He hadn't had freedom since Keats had died, but at least he had control. Now he had neither.

And then the door opened.

Barry stood there in his dark suit, just a few shades off from black enough to be a deep blue, and his raven feather mantle with the dark cape falling beneath it. He looked like a hero from a tale in that moment with the light behind him. Or at least, he would've if he wasn't a middle-aged human who was more than a bit pudgy around the middle and clearly graying.

"Ed? Is everything okay?"

Was it a slip? The concern in his voice, the use of a nickname. Was it a slip? Was it calculated? What did it mean?

He wished he could talk to Lydia. Not just about this. About so many things, really. How long since he last saw his twin? They were never meant to be apart, had never been apart before they had been brought to the Astral Plane the first time.

Barry closed the distance, leaving the door open behind him as he walked up to Edward. He put his hand on Edward's shoulder, worry in his eyes.

That was about when Edward realized he hadn't responded. He couldn't respond. His throat was choked and he didn't know what to say. What was he supposed to say? How did you say everything was alright when you were alone when you were supposed to be half of a set? How did you say it was fine when you were trapped, lost in the darkness of your own creation and of the prison they'd thrown you in.

"Reaper Bluejeans, I thought I said-"

There was no heart in it, the snap behind the words gone. Worse, Barry seemed to know it. He smiled, the expression soft, and Edward felt his stomach do flip-flops like he was only a hundred again.

"You can call me Barry, you know. And you didn't answer the question. Are you alright? I heard the crash."

They stood there like that for a long moment, Barry's hand on Edward's shoulder and Edward's mouth just slightly open as he tried to find the words he needed. He had lied so many times in his life, he could do it again. He could brush all of this off. He could say it was nothing. He could throw Barry out again. He could laugh and say he'd done it for fun. It was nothing.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against Barry's shoulder.

"I don't know." The stark truth and nothing else. "I just... I miss my sister. You understand, don't you?"

Barry hesitated visibly, almost tensing. Then he put an arm around Edward's shoulders in a loose hug.

"I... I do, actually. Maybe not the same but..." He inhaled sharply, trying to make a decision. "I can talk to Kravitz. You have to understand, we can't leave you two alone. Not after... well, you know, last time. But I can at least try to let you talk to her."

Edward hadn't been expecting compassion. How long had it been since anyone offered him  _ compassion _ ? Since so very long before Keats got sick, at least. After that, everything had by necessity been about Keats and even then, no one actually gave them compassion. Pity, certainly. And scorn. And so many other things that had failed to help them where compassion could have.

Barry was rubbing his back gently and Edward wasn't quite sure when he started shaking. Dammit, he couldn't show this kind of weakness. And yet.  _ And yet. _

And yet, for the first time quite literally in centuries, there were tears on his cheeks. Edward closed his eyes against them, trying to deny that it was happening. He hadn't cried since... since... Had he even cried when Keats died?

No. He hadn't.

His tears had dried long before then, when the healers had told them there was nothing they could do. After they had put everything they had into trying to save their brother only to be told it was fruitless. And now he was shaking and silently crying with his face buried against the shoulder of... of what? His captor? A friend? He wasn't even sure anymore.

Edward pulled away. Barry let him. Something hung in the air between them and neither was sure of the other, neither was sure what that something might be. Whatever it was, though, they both knew it was important. Barry started to open his mouth and Edward cut him off.

"I would appreciate that. Seeing Lydia, I mean."

There were still tears in his eyes and on his cheeks but he didn't raise a hand to wipe them. Not yet. He refused to acknowledge it until Barry was gone. Barry nodded.

"If I can find a way, I will. I'll... I'll be back tomorrow and I'll let you know. I promise, Ed."

He stood there for a long moment and then headed out the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Reaper Barry Bluejeans was not back tomorrow. Nor was he back the next day. Or the day after that. It was nearly a week before he finally came back. And when he did, it was all Edward could do not to stare at him. Something had happened in the intervening days, that much was patently obvious. Barry stood sheepishly in the doorway with one arm in a sling and a long, shallow cut running from his above his right eye and almost all the way down to his mouth. It was pinkish but had obviously been healed and Edward's hands itched to reach over and touch it, to ensure himself it wasn't going to scar. And he had no idea why he cared.

Instead, he arched an eyebrow and crossed his arms over his chest.

"So, you finally decided to come back, did you? It certainly doesn't seem like _tomorrow_ , but who’s to say, really?"

Barry sighed softly and looked down.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was oddly quiet. “We had a bounty. It... it was a rough one. I did mean to come back sooner but...”

That quieted Edward slightly and he took a step forward. That put all of the injuries into a new light. These were intentional. Someone meant to kill Barry. Alright, yes, he was unkillable but that was besides the point.

"Barry, what happened?"

He started to raise his hand and forcibly dropped it again. What was he even trying to do? And yet... and yet he couldn't stop himself from questioning if the injuries he could see were the only ones. There were bruises on Barry's arm, just barely showing when his sleeve shifted. The green sort of bruise that meant he got hit hard with something or else hit something hard. Was that the worst of it? Was there more he couldn't see?

Why did he care?

Barry shrugged a little, finally meeting Edward's gaze again.

"There's a... a new necromantic cult we've been dealing with and... I don't know, they've got ideas. Some of their ideas even work." He rubbed at his arm, the one in the sling, and Edward wondered if it was broken or if it was the shoulder. Neither was good but just a broken arm would probably heal better, he thought. "We've been dealing with them for a while. It's... it's nothing."

He gestured to the chessboard tucked under his good arm and gave Edward a little smile that made his stomach do flip-fops.

"We can still play, if you wanted. Don't need both hands to whoop your ass at chess."

* * *

Barry had gone home for the evening a few hours before. Gone home to his wife and left Edward alone in the relative quiet of his cell. All he could think about was the shallow cut on Barry’s face, the bruises that could be seen, his arm in a sling. Someone had tried very hard to kill him. A lucky thing he was a Reaper and a lich, then. Still though, thinking about those injuries sent waves of fear through him. He'd never thought about what it was that Barry did when he wasn't here playing chess or down in the workshop he had doing whatever research he felt like. Somehow, Edward had completely ignored the fact that the Reapers fought and that fighting would mean injury. At least though, for them, it would never mean death. He had to believe that.

With a sigh, he got up and went to lay on the bed. He didn't use it much, having never gotten into the habit when he was alive. Back then, beds had been for humans or the very ill and he was assuredly neither of those. But it was a comfortable place to lay in a place that offered so little comfort to him. Leaning back, he let his head come to rest on the pillow and closed his eyes. He would just lay here for a bit, then go back to his usual meditation spot.

Just as soon as he stopped thinking about Barry Bluejeans. It was so much more than just the cuts and bruises catching his attention. And right now, Edward couldn't stop picturing the man's eyes behind those glasses of his. Barry had these pale blue eyes, almost like ice but far too full of... of emotions to be called anything near so frigid as ice. And when he turned them on a person, they felt, well, noticed. He exhaled slowly, the sound turning into a sigh. Why was he even thinking any of this? Barry was a human. A middle-aged, overweight human with gray in his brown hair. And it wasn't even an exciting brown! It was the definition of mousy brown. And it curled when it had been too long since he last got it cut. Those curls always looked so soft, like they would be so nice to tangle your fingers in and-

Why the FUCK was he thinking any of this?

Edward sat up, eyes snapping open. What the hell was wrong with him? There was no way he was fantasizing about Reaper Bluejeans. That was impossible, ridiculous even. First off, again, human and middle-aged and certainly not his type. Second off, he was married. And Edward was a lot of things but he was certainly not a homewrecker. At least, not when the wife in question was one Lup Bluejeans, scariest evocation mage in this or any planar system who had killed him with an umbrella and dropped a snazzy one-liner while doing it. And third off...

Third off, he was probably just horny. How long had he gone without some sort of release? Trying to remember back, he grimaced. Exceedingly long. He'd been a lich for most of that, sure, but that didn't mean he didn't still have needs. And obviously, his needs just weren't being met. That was the only reason he kept thinking about Reaper Bluejeans and his soft curls and his little smile and those pale blue eyes and...

That was the _only_ reason.

And that was the only reason he glanced towards the door of his cell to ensure once again that it was closed before kicking his pants off and shifting so he was sitting on the edge of the bed. Taking a breath, he closed his eyes. Then he let it out again, trying to decide exactly how he was going to do this. That was when the image sprung unbidden into his mind: Barry, on his knees in front of Edward, gazing up at him with that same little smile playing over his lips. Gods, he would be so pretty like that.

Edward licked his lips, following that fantasy along as he ran his hand down his stomach and over his thigh. He was half hard already, just from the idea. Wrapping his hand around the base of his cock, he tried to imagine that it was Barry touching him. It would be so different, not just the angle but the feel of him. Barry's fingers were shorter, thicker, marked with scars and burns. And he was strong, surprisingly so considering his general appearance. And... and gentle.

It was so easy to imagine him taking Edward's cock in his hand, gently stroking it as their eyes met. He would lean in, his breath against Edward's skin a tantalizing promise of what was to come.

Outside of his daydreams, Edward bit his lower lip, trying to suppress the whimper that was threatening to escape him. He couldn't make a sound, nothing that anyone might here. Gods, if he got caught at this... But he didn't want to stop. Gods, it felt good. Long, slow strokes, all while imagining Barry moving closer, running his tongue over the length of Edward's shaft. His mouth would be warm and his touch soft and Edward was so certain that Barry's curly hair would be perfect to tangle his fingers in. Maybe the Reaper even liked having it tugged, pulling him closer, guiding him into place.

Edward's breath hitched, his head going back. He'd been rocking his hips forward, meeting the motion of his hand, and those thrusts stuttered as he reached his climax. For a moment, he just sat there in a pleasure-filled haze. Then he looked down at the sticky mess he'd made of his hand and the guilt settled over him. What was he doing? He rattled off the incantation for a prestidigitation to clean himself up and then sighed when nothing happened. Of course, he'd almost forgotten they were cut off from their magic here meaning that he was left with the evidence of his shame. He wiped his hand on the blankets and tugged his pants back on. No one needed to know that he had been fantasizing about Barry Bluejeans. _No one_. He didn't even need to think about it again in the future. That had been a mistake and not one he was about to repeat.

He stood, going back to the blanket he'd folded on the floor. He sat cross-legged on it and took a few breaths, trying to drop into his usual meditative trance. He wanted to let the patterns he'd learned as a child fill his mind and take away this... this... whatever it was that he was feeling. Instead, he was left sitting there staring at the wall with a rock of guilt and shame weighing him down as it warred with the fact that he had, in fact, enjoyed that little fantasy very much.

* * *

He tried not to think about it at all over the next few days. The only thing that made it easier was that he also didn't see Barry. Instead, he was left more or less to his own devices. He vaguely understood that Barry was spending some time healing after his last little ordeal but it was still vexing being alone. He paced the space within his cell, wondering what was going on beyond the door. It was so quiet. Well, quiet save for the agonized wailing of the other inmates, but they were always like that. He couldn't fathom why. Did they think it would get them something? 

They should know by now, there was nothing in the Astral Plane that was for them, not really. 

Then he stopped, staring at the door. Was that true any more? He wasn't sure. Not really. Not to imply that he wanted to see more of Barry in any particular way, of course. But... but perhaps it wasn't all that bad. 

No, no, that was ridiculous. They were his jailers, that was all the Reapers were and- 

And Barry seemed so genuine.

Edward wanted to scream. It was like there was a war raging inside of him and he wasn't sure which side he was on any more. He needed Lydia. He needed his twin to help him work all of this out. And at the same time, he had no idea how he could explain it to her. What was he going to say? _Oh yes, dear sister, I might be attracted to one of our prison guards but I'm not sure._ That would go over like a house on fire. Probably his house and she would be the one holding the match.

He laid down then in the center of the room, feeling the cold stone against his skin. It grounded him, pulled him back to himself and let him center. Maybe he just needed some time, just need to reflect and work this out on his own. And maybe he needed to spend some more time with Barry instead of waiting for the Reaper to come back and see if these... whatever they were... matched up to the light of day and the reality of the man. That was it.

* * *

The room they were in was a small one, just large enough to accommodate the table they both sat at and the Reapers standing behind them against the walls. It had been made abundantly clear before Edward and Lydia were even brought here that any attempts to escape would be met with force and that anything even remotely out of line would be taken as an attempt to escape. At least, that was what Kravitz had said. Barry, with one arm still in a sling from his last bounty, had just told Edward that everything was being taken care of and all he had to do was keep out of trouble and it would be fine. Not, of course, to imply that Barry was allowed to oversee this little meeting. No, he was stuck on desk duty thanks to his broken arm and Lup was keeping an eye on things with Kravitz. Which, Edward supposed, was all to the good. He had had a hard enough time looking the man in the eye for the few minutes it had taken him to explain the terms and conditions. He didn't think there was a way he could handle being in the same room as him for longer and not combust.

Edward leaned forward across the table, smiling at his sister. She was grinning too, expression confident, self-assured. She leaned forward and patted his arm gently.

"I don't know how you pulled it off, dear brother, but whatever you're doing, keep it up."

That set him back a little and his ears flicked up.

"What are you talking about? All I did was ask."

Lydia met his eyes, a slight frown on her face.

"You... asked. Just like that. Nothing else?" Then she brushed it off and Edward knew she was probably justifying it to herself somehow, assuming he'd done something to convince the Reapers to let this happen. "Anyway, how _have_ you been, darling? I hope your accommodations are as breathtaking as mine."

There was amusement in her tone now and he laughed, relaxing once more. There was the sister he knew and loved. He waved one hand airily.

"Of course, of course. I'm just loving the penthouse suite they've put me up in. Five stars on Fantasy Yelp, you know." He grinned, his ears flicked up with his amusement. "I will say, though, I didn't think that extracurriculars were a part of the usual Astral Plane experience."

Lydia quirked an eyebrow, looking her brother over skeptically, as though she was trying to decide which parts of that were true and which were part of the elaborate game they always played.

"Tennis, then, dear brother?"

Edward blinked. Once. Twice. Three times. Then he laughed a little.

"Don't tell me you don't have a chess partner popping by, darling sister of mine. I can't possibly be the only one getting that treatment... Can I?"

He looked up again, meeting his sister's eyes and realized the truth. He was. She had no idea what he was talking about. Whatever Barry was doing, it was just between the two of them. Part of him wanted to glance at the other two Reapers, see if they showed any recognition of what he was talking about. He didn't though. He was fairly certainly Lup knew, but he had no idea what Kravitz knew. And Kravitz was the one to worry about with things like that. If Kravitz didn't want Barry seeing Edward, it would stop. And his chest felt tight at that. He didn't want it to stop.

Lydia laughed then, clearly deciding to take his words as a joke.

"Chess, dear brother? I much prefer spending my days out by the pool. There's a lovely cabana girl who holds grapes for me. It's just delightful."

And with that, his strange feelings about being singled out vanished. They were still twins, they would always be twins, and they would always be there for each other, the only one the other could rely on. He laughed softly and leaned in. They didn't have all that long here, but he was just grateful to get this time to talk. 


	3. Chapter 3

Becoming a lich had been, it turned out much later, been the easy part of their whole operation. The hard part, the hardest part, was not losing himself in the process. And now that Edward was laying on the floor in a cold stone cell, he began to wonder if they had even succeeded at that a little. He'd had one trick that worked for a long time, a particular meditation but he wasn't even sure he could do it any more, wasn't sure the memories would be there if he tried to pull them up. With a sigh, he sat up and closed his eyes, dropping instinctively into the pattern of breathing required for meditation. The memories snapped up and into place almost immediately, the little cottage with its vegetable garden tucked off to one side and the flowers out front. There was a curl of smoke coming from the chimney and it smelled delightfully of fresh baking bread. He could hear Lydia inside singing to herself as she went about her daily chores. He could feel the rough wood of a basket handle in his own hand. It was a singular moment captured in time, a day before the end of all the things that had truly mattered. He could hear footsteps racing around the side of the cottage, small footsteps that pounded the dirt with barefoot enthusiasm.

He turned towards the sound, ready to embrace his brother and swing him high into the air. Instead he was launched back out of the trance.

His face. Keats’ face. It had been blank, utterly devoid of features. Edward pulled his knees up to his chest, the cold inside him turning to bitter ice. He couldn’t even remember his face. They claimed it had all been for Keats and he couldn’t even remember the boy’s face. What kind of a brother was he?

When Barry stepped into Edward’s cell that afternoon, Edward had given himself completely over to his grief. He had let Keats die a second death, had let the boy’s memory fade to the point that even he, who should have held Keats in his heart forever, had let him slip into the darkness of eternity.

“Edward? What... what happened?”

Edward looked up, his face streaked with tears and his ears flicked back.

“Why does it matter, Reaper?”

He spat the word, frustration and grief and bitterness all coming to a head here and now. He didn’t want to be here. He wanted to be with his sister, he wanted to go back to Wonderland where he didn’t have to face the truth of his own existence. But that wasn’t an option now and it was their fault, the Raven Queen and her Reapers.

Barry recoiled and the knotted ball of guilt inside Edward tightened. Was there anything he could do right? Anyone he could keep from hurting? No, apparently. No his brother, not his sister, and not this man. And then he came and sat down next to him on the floor.

"Ed, it matters because I'm worried about you. What's wrong? You look like you've been crying."

Edward took a breath and then squeezed his eyes closed again.

"I can't remember his face."

Barry was silent and tense, enough that Edward turned to look at him. The man was pale, looking like a corpse against the dark of his black cloak, and he looked like he’d just watched someone he loved die. Edward could relate.

“Do you want to... to talk about him? You mean you brother, right?” Barry hesitated, almost like he was afraid to misstep. “I only know what your sister said in... in Wonderland? But uh... Would it help if you talked about him?”

Edward snorted something that was almost a laugh or maybe a sob. Even he didn’t really know.

“If that’s the direction you want to take this, I’m going to need an entire bottle of something very strong.”

Neither of them had really talked about their brother since they’d created Wonderland. Not until Lydia explained their story to Barry’s friends that fateful day. Before that? Nothing. Not even to each other. It was hard to draw up the words, to even say his name without Edward’s throat feeling tight with bitterest grief.

Barry shifted slightly in how he was sitting.

“I mean, it’s not the healthiest coping mechanism I’ve ever heard of but uh... but I’m pretty sure you’re past the point where liver damage matters. So... let’s say I did get my hands on something strong for you, would you tell me about your brother?”

Edward shrugged. Then he thought the better of it. It wasn't like he actually had to talk about anything, he could just take the drinks, get blissfully drunk, and maybe lose a day or so of his time here.

"Sure, why not?"

Barry nodded and reached into the back pocket of his jeans, pulling out a stone of farspeech. He grinned at Edward and dialed Lup's frequency, each press of the runes making a soft, musical chime. After a moment, Lup's muffled voice could be heard from the other side of the stone.

_"Hey Bear, what's up?"_

Barry smiled the moment Lup spoke and Edward turned away, something twisting his gut in ways he didn't appreciate.

"This uh... this is gonna sound kind of wild, babe, but could I talk you into making a pitcher of that blue shit? You know what I mean, right? Just uh... bring it by Edward's room. We're having one of those vodka hard talks."

There was a pause and Edward's ears swiveled as he tried to listen in. Glass clinked in the background before he heard Lup again.

_"Yeah, natch, babe. And we've got all the ingredients so I'll be there in like ten minutes."_ Pause. _"You okay?"_

Barry's smile was soft and for a brief moment, Edward wanted to grab the stone of farspeech and fling it across the room. He didn't though, he just clenched his hands into fists and stared at the floor.

"Yeah, I'm good. Promise. I'll see you soon, okay?"

_"See you soon, babe."_

* * *

As promised, Lup arrived around ten minutes later with a pitcher and two wine glasses, one of which had a skull with little heart eyes painted on the outside. The other one was just plain glass and that was the one Barry passed to Edward once it was filled with an electric blue drink that seemed to fizz. He eyed it skeptically for a moment before taking it sip. It was pleasantly fruity with more than just a hint of lemon, orange, and sugar. And there was a definite kick to it. He took another sip and looked up at Barry.

"What is this thing?"

Barry took a sip from his own and grinned broadly.

"Electric lemonade." Then he sat back on the floor, leaning against a wall. "We learned about it back on uh... Cycle 5, I think? Early on. But it took Lup and Taako about ten more years to figure out how to get the uh... the blue color and the orange flavor without completely fucking up the balance, because nobody on that world would share the recipe."

It did taste good. And as he drank more and more of his way down the glass, a warm feeling started to settle in Edward's stomach. He sat beside Barry, eyes closed for a long while as he just enjoyed the drink. It was Barry that broke the silence between them as he was pouring Edward's second glass.

"So, about your brother..."

Edward's entire body tensed and his ears flicked back. Hands shaking, he took another long swig, silently apologizing to this delicious drink for downing it like cheap beer. He wasn't nearly drunk enough yet to approach that particular level of his backstory.

And yet.

"What's there to tell? You already know the story. He was younger than us, he got sick, he died, we became liches. End of story."

Barry shifted uncomfortably and then sighed.

"Don't tell me about how he died, Ed. Tell me about how he lived. What was your brother like?"

Edward downed the next glass just as quickly, the sweetness in it cutting the alcohol taste in a way that would have been dangerous if he was still alive. Then he shrugged.

“He was a kid. He was...” His throat tightened as he thought back, trying to remember details. “We were so much older. A lot older. He hadn’t even grown into his ears.”

He gestured out beyond the length of his own, trying to convey what elven children even look like. Ridiculous is what. With those long, floppy ears they haven’t learned to control yet and those huge eyes, both too big for their face. And Keats had always liked to wear shirts that were a bit too big. Or was it that he was wearing Edward’s shirts? No, that was it. He’d like to steal Edward’s clothes and joke about how big he was going to be when he grew up.

Except... Except that he never did.

Why the hell had he agreed to this conversation? He could’ve said no.

“How old?”

Barry’s voice was soft, almost the same tones he’d taken on his brief call with Lup before. Edward wanted to snap that he didn’t need cosseting or pity. But when he turned to look at Barry, the expression there was genuine. He cared. It was confusing.

“He was twelve. Just... just twelve.” And there it was. His throat tightened and tears blurred his vision. Why _why_ had he agreed to any of this? “We were responsible for him and... and he...”

It had been like that since the fire, since the one frantic, terrifying night when Edward had woken up to find his sister shaking him awake, her eyes full of fear.

_“Eddie, come on! It’s- I can’t get to Mom and Dad and Keats.”_

_He hadn’t understood but he’d stumbled out of his trance and to his feet. That was when he realized that the darkness around the ceiling was smoke. Lydia grabbed his hand, tugging him towards the hall down to their little brother’s room and their parents’ room beyond that. Keats was just a baby and they could hear him crying. He was awake. Worse still, the hallway was full of flames. It almost seemed like it had come from their parents’ room at the end of the hall, or maybe from their workroom beside that._

_The origin didn’t matter though. What mattered was that they needed to get to them, to Keats. Edward focused for a moment, trying to remember the meager magic lessons they’d gotten so far. Most of it had been focused on theory and not much application but he had learned enough to create a ray of frost and he shot one at the flames. A path opened and he charged into it, yelling to his sister._

_“Come on!”_

_Lydia gritted her teeth and followed him, casting as bright a light as she could in the air. It did almost nothing against the smoke but it got them to Keats’ door. Edward grabbed the sobbing toddler out of his cradle and turned to yell at Lydia. She wasn’t there, she was back in the hall trying to get further, trying to get to their parents._

_“Mama!” She flung raw magic at the door and it splashed over the wood. “Papa!” Another unshaped bolt of power careened towards the door. “Wake up!”_

_Edward balanced Keats as best he could and grabbed his sister._

_“Come on, Lili. We need to go!”_

They’d made it outside, of course, and stood there shivering in the darkness as they waited. Waited to see if anyone would come to help, waited to see if their parents would come out, waited to see what the dawn would bring.

It changed all three of them and left the teenagers alone with a baby. Lydia moved faster after that, made decisions faster and often without consulting him first. And Edward? He learned not to rush in, to hesitate, to wait until he was sure. They would never know if a different course could have saved their parents but for a long time, they both thought about it. At least, they didn’t until Keats got sick and gave them something new to worry about.

The memories had rushed back so quickly, the heat, the noise. Most people don’t think about the sound in a fire, but the flames roar almost like a dragon. A younger Edward had lived in fear of that sound. At least, until he’d ripped out his own soul and declared he wasn’t afraid of anything. What a crock of lies.

He downed a third and fourth glass, trying to get something like an equilibrium back under him, trying not to feel like he was sitting on top of a pile of sand that made up his world and was slowly slipping away.

“We had to take care of him after that. And he was a good kid. Smart, funny, the whole thing. He was real big on helping people and... and he was a cute little guy. And...”

Edward stopped, his voice trailing off. And they had forgotten everything Keats had ever been. They had always been selfish, sure, but that was important when it was just the three of you against the world. But somehow Keats had never fallen into that. They had watched out for him, made sure he never had to worry, that he could help people like he wanted without any sort of trouble.

And the moment he was gone, they’d turned completely inward and forgotten everything.

Edward held his glass out again and downed it the moment Barry filled it.

“He was the best of us, you know."

Edward's words were slightly slurred now and he gestured haphazardly with the empty glass. Then he froze as an arm settled around his shoulders and he realized he’d been crying. Not just his eyes watering a bit, but actual tears streaming down his cheeks.

“Ed, if... if you wanted, I bet I could find out where he went. If he reincarnated or whatever.”

Edward looked at him, ears flicking back and forward. 

"You would do that? For me?"

Barry smiled back at Edward.

"Yeah, of course."

There was a bit of pink in his cheeks, Edward noted. But that was probably just the alcohol. Just like it was the alcohol making Edward feel warm and soft and languid and like he wanted to turn and press a kiss to Barry's lips.

Thankfully for both of them, Barry turned away before Edward's drunken mind could make a decision. 

"What'd you guys used to do? For fun, I mean. Did uh... did you always play chess?"

Edward looked up again.

"My father taught me, when we were young. I didn't play much though. Until... For the most part, Lydia and I used to go to parties, host them ourselves. Things like that."

Barry smiled and took a long sip from his own glass before he responded.

"Color me surprised that you two were throwing parties."

Edward's ears flicked back and for a moment, he looked almost indignant. Then another bubble of vexation fizzled in his stomach and burst. There were so many other people he could hear say things like that and they would be assuming the worst but Barry somehow made the teasing shot friendly. There were no barbs in his words. 

"Lydia was also quite the baker. She found all sorts of ways to substitute and make things look fancy as could be even with what we could afford. I used to spend hours in the woods finding just the right berries for her."

Barry smiled and started to open his mouth to say something, once again leaning towards Edward. Then his stone of far speech beeped in his pocket and he frowned slightly. For a moment, he looked like he might ignore it. Enough that Edward was hopeful. Then it beeped again and Barry sighed softly and pulled it out.

"Hello? Oh, hey Taako. Yeah... yeah just... Angus? Sure, just give me a minute. I'm at work." He pushed himself back up to standing before turning to look back at Edward. "I'm sorry, I have to go deal with this. I'll see you later though, I promise."

With that, he headed towards the door, leaving Edward alone in his small room with half a pitcher of bright blue alcoholic lemonade and his own thoughts. 

* * *

Edward had long since finished the last of the pitcher before he stumbled to his feet, leaving glasses and pitcher behind. He was pleasantly warm, his mind just muddled enough that the edge had been taken off entirely. For the first time since his first death so long ago, he felt truly relaxed. He flopped onto his back across the bed, humming to himself. Then his mind went back to that moment when they had been sitting so close, their faces bare inches apart. It was so close that he could have leaned forward, closed the distance between them, and kissed Barry. He could have. He wanted to. It was dangerous but, gods, he wanted it so badly.

Barry Bluejeans looked like a man who knew his way around a proper kiss. He looked like the sort of man who had strong arms, gentle hands, and would absolutely push him against a wall to kiss like he meant it. Maybe even grab him by the collar of his shirt and hold him there, throw him around a little. It was moments like this when Edward wondered if he really was a switch or if he was just an assertive bottom. Either way, the image was delicious. Enough that heat was curling in his gut and he let his head fall back onto the pillow. 

It would be so easy for Barry to shove him up against the wall, to kiss him, to mark him, to pull his trousers down and run one calloused hand over his cock. Edward chewed his lower lip, a brief flash of guilt shooting through him. He couldn't keep doing this. He _shouldn't_ keep doing this. Except...

Except that he wanted to. And really, what was the harm in it? There was none, he was sure of that. And anyway, he wanted it and it was something he could have, unlike everything else he wanted. With soft growl of frustration, he tugged his trousers down and kicked them off. Why was he even taking the time to acknowledge something like _guilt_? What did he have to be guilty over? Certainly not over the fact that he wanted some Grade A beef.

Now then, where was he? Oh right, shoved up against a wall with Barry's hand around his cock. Fuck, that was a good image. Edward ran his hand down his stomach, taking himself in hand. And he could reach down and undo those jeans, let Barry's cock come out to play. Edward licked his lips. Maybe if he was lucky, he could even get his mouth on it. He could sit on his knees in front of Barry and watch the man come apart for him. 

His even strokes stuttered, his hips rocking up as he thrust roughly into his hand. His back arched as a low groan escaped his lips and he spilled over his hand and stomach. Then, for a long while he just lay there in the quiet.

What the fuck was he doing?

Edward sat up a little, wiping his hand on the blankets. Then he grabbed one to clean himself up. This was a mistake. All of this. Trying to be friendly, letting his emotions get the better of him. All of it was a fucking mistake and he needed to stop before... before...

Before Barry found out. Before he took a step he couldn’t undo. Before he got hurt. Before there was no coming back. He tugged his trousers back on and redid the ties with the efficiency of long practice. Then he got up, pacing the room. The glint of light from the pitcher off to one side caught his eye and Edward strode towards it, grabbing it in one hand. For a long moment, he considered it. It would be so easy to fling against the wall, the let it shatter to pieces. And it would, it was no part of the magic of this room that was his whole world. The glass would even stay, glittering on the floor and reflecting the light.

He weighed it in his hand, feeling the solidness of it. Then he set it back down. He couldn't just smash it. Not when he kept picturing the worried look on Barry's face the last time he threw a fit. And it drove a spike into his core that he cared this much. He wasn't supposed to care. He was supposed to be one of the two hosts of Wonderland and that was it.

Who even was he now?

He sat back down in the corner and closed his eyes, trying to relax his mind enough to meditate. He failed and sometime late into what he guessed was the night, he was still staring at the wall. That was when the door opened and Barry stepped back inside. He moved quietly across the room, gathering the pitcher and glasses to head back. Edward's ears flicked and he opened one eye. 

"What? Not even going to say hello? What sort of manners are those?"

Barry nearly jumped at Edward's voice and he set the glasses back on the floor. 

"Oh, hey Edward. I uh... I didn't think you were awake. So I didn't want to bother you. You... you seemed like you could use the rest."

He frowned slightly, looking around, and for one guilty moment, Edward wondered if Barry somehow knew what he'd been up to. Then the man's smile returned.

"It is late, you know. You should get some rest."

Edward stretched out languidly, legs crossed at the ankles.

"What if I don't want to?"

Barry let out a startled laugh. It was always nice catching him off guard like that, Edward thought. Nice seeing the man's expression unmistakably genuine. Not that it wasn't the rest of the time, but sometimes it was nice to be extra sure.

"Well then, you're gonna be pretty tired tomorrow, don't you think?"

Did he even know how ridiculous that sounded? Edward raised one perfect brow, a little smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"My dear Reaper, did you forget? I'm _dead_. The dead don't exactly get tired."

Barry mouthed the words 'my dear reaper' back and Edward felt his stomach drop out, regret instantly coursing through him. What if that was too much? What if it made his interest obvious? No, dammit. Not _interest_. He wasn't _interested_ in anyone or anything. He was just lonely and gay and that was it. 

A little smile crossed Barry's face then and Edward couldn't even lie to himself now. Instead, he looked away. Better to admit defeat than to let Barry figure out the truth, after all. And he certainly didn't want to risk word getting back to Lup.

“Edward?” Barry had his head tilted the side just slightly, worry in his eyes. “Are you alright?”

And how the hell was he supposed to answer that?

“I’m fine. Just take the glasses and leave.”

Barry hesitated for a moment and then scooped up his things.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, I guess.”

He lingered in the doorway for a moment, long enough that Edward almost wondered if he was waiting for something. If he was waiting for Edward to call him back. He could too, call the man back and tell him everything. Grab him by the collar of his uniform and kiss him firmly, taste those lips and get as drunk on them as he had been on drink.

He said nothing. He just watched as the door closed and once again he was left in the darkness of these four walls and his thoughts. 


	4. Chapter 4

Tomorrow came, of course, and Barry stepped quietly into Edward’s cell and closed the door behind him.

“Hey Ed. Sorry about... well... large chunks of yesterday, honestly.”

Edward looked up at him from where he sat on the floor in his usual spot. He didn’t have anything like the energy he would need to be annoyed with Barry today. He could but what would be the point? All that would come of it would be Barry leaving him all alone again. There certainly wasn’t any fun to be had in that.

Instead, he waved it away, a relaxed smile on his face.

“Think nothing of it. Entirely water under the metaphorical bridge.”

Barry was quiet for a moment, then he shrugged and went to sit on the edge of the bed.

“If you say so.” He paused for a moment. “Did uh... did you want to play chess today or maybe just... maybe just talk?”

Was it just him or was the Reaper nervous? Had he finally gotten in trouble for his fraternizing with the enemy? Not that they were really fraternizing, that would be far more fun. But still, the Raven Queen was sure to have rules about that sort of thing. Or else the far more likely and far more terrifying potentiality: Lup had found out.

He got to his feet, moving to sit by Barry on the bed. In for a copper, in for a gold. If this was going to be the end of things, he might as well enjoy it while it lasted.

“Talking sounds delightful. Assuming, of course, you don’t want to talk more about my family. I’m rather afraid we’ve exhausted that topic for now.”

Barry turned away but he didn’t get up. No, instead he scooted back so he was leaning against the wall behind the small bed. Edward looked him over, taking the image in and practically willing his ears and cheeks not to redden as he thought about the times he’d laid on this bed and thought about the things he would like to do with this man on it. Oh yes, even if this was the end, he was going to have fodder for his fantasies for months, at least.

“Well, no. I sort of... I figured you wouldn’t want to after everything.” Barry was still looking away, his voice oddly distant. “I guess I just wanted to ask about... the bell. How did you get it? And... how long? Was... did you have Wonderland before that?”

Guilt. Edward’s ears flicked up as he was struck with that realization. This was guilt he was hearing in Barry’s voice. And of course he was. Barry had made the Animus Bell, after all. It would make sense for the man to feel a little guilt over that.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Knowing we had Wonderland long before we got our hands on that little toy of yours.” Edward laughed softly. “You’re right, of course. It was a bit harder, the prizes less 'your heart’s desire' and more generic treasure, but it lured in plenty of adventurers.”

Barry nodded at that, just a bit of a blush coloring his cheeks.

“It’s not the way you make it sound. I know I made something awful. It... it wasn’t supposed to be like that but... I guess nothing ever is, you know?” He paused for a long moment, long enough that Edward wasn’t sure he was going to pick that thought back up. “I just wanted to make sure it wasn’t my fault you became that.”

Edward snorted. As if they’d needed temptation to skip merrily down the road of evil. Oh, no. They'd managed that one all on their own.

“Don’t you worry about that in the slightest, we were already ruling Wonderland when some adventurer brought the bell to us. Idiot thought he could use it to win our game and ended up killing himself with it.”

Barry made a face at that.

“Of course... Dammit, well, I don’t know what I was expecting. Nothing we made ended well.”

Edward had missed the vast majority of what was known as the Relic Wars, so caught up had he and Lydia been. After all, they had Wonderland to rule. Why would they notice anything going on outside. He did know a bit about the aftermath from the Story. About cities laid waste to with fire and candy and storms, about wars fought with and to control weapons of uncontrollable power.

It was uncomfortable to think about, even for him. And to think that someone as sweet as Barry had made one of those weapons. Now Lup, Lup he could understand. Of course she made an implement of fiery destruction, of course she made a way to raze cities. There was a poetic irony to it, really.

And then he looked at Barry again, ears flicking back. And Barry carried that guilt, for all of it. Not just the bell.

“Did you want to talk about something else? I could tell you all about the inner workings of Wonderland, tell you everything you’d need to know to set up your own franchise even.”

"You know," Barry leaned back against the wall, turning to look at Edward next to him with an expression that was almost thankful, like he was relieved for the topic change even though he’d started it. "I do have one question. I always wondered, why the game? Was it just the attention or something else?"

Edward glanced over again, this time examining the Reaper's arms while he tried to figure out how to answer that question. Barry was finally out of the sling but the cut hadn't healed all the way yet and he could see the lines of it against the man's pale skin. Then he shrugged.

"Partially that, partially because people are more likely to come when they think they can win, and partially to get their consent." The way Barry's eyebrows shot up meant Edward had surprised him again and he sighed softly. "Surprised we were getting consent? It makes the spell casting easier."

But Barry shook his head.

"No, no, that's not... I was just sort of considering the ethics, you know?"

"Ethics." Edward's tone was deadpan and he couldn't help but turn completely so he was sitting cross-legged on the bed instead of leaning against the wall behind it. "You're talking about Wonderland, darling, there's no ethics in Wonderland."

Barry chuckled quietly and Edward's ears flicked up. Barry thought he was joking, didn't he? He actually believed there was something ethical to the torture they'd inflicted on so very many people. It had been centuries. Bloody centuries of death and suffering and what for? Bright lights and infamy.

"No, no, I mean like... degrees of ethical behavior. There's like... levels to it? And it's really interesting to think about the uh... the sort of ramifications of the different levels in different scenarios, magically speaking, I mean." Barry held up a hand, counting on his fingers as he spoke. "So at the top you get like informed consent, right? Where they know exactly what they're getting into and willingly do so. Then you get uninformed assent, which is like... That's where Wonderland is. They don't know exactly what they're getting into, but they agree to some form of it and maybe they get what they were expecting and maybe they don't. Then you get dubious consent which is... honestly sort of similar? But where something is being actively withheld or the situation isn't what it looks like and..."

Barry kept going and Edward tilted his head to the side, a small smile playing across his lips. He couldn't help it. There was something about the way Barry lit up when he was excited, something about the way he got so involved in what he was saying that his hands were moving in the air and he stumbled over his words, repeating some and stammering others. At some point, Barry had turned as well, facing Edward straight on.

And then he stopped talking suddenly, a blush coloring his cheeks as he met Edward's eyes.

"Ed, I-"

Barry moved first and their lips met.

It was awkward at first, but not in a bad way. It was simply awkward in the way of two people who are coming together for the first time and need to learn each other, to know the cadence of each other's movements, to find the way they fit together. But soon they were tangled in each other, laying across Edward's small bed. Edward was pleased to discover that Barry's curly hair was just as soft as he'd always hoped, perfect for running his fingers through.

Somewhere down the hall, a door slammed and Edward sat bolt upright, quickly trying to fix his hair so it didn't look mussed as he pulled away from Barry. Barry sat up more slowly, running nervous fingers through his own hair.

"Did I... I mean... What... what's wrong? Is something wrong?"

When Edward looked up again, he was even more pale than usual and he almost looked like he was shaking. Barry slid off the bed, going to him with his hands out. Edward pulled away.

"Barry, if she sees, if she finds out. I'm not going to be the one getting us in trouble, do you hear me? This existence may not be all that great but at least I'm still existing and if- if she finds out about this then..."

Edward couldn't meet his eyes. Gods, how much had he wanted this? How close had it been to so many of his illicit fantasies? But if Lup caught wind that any of this was happening... if she even thought... And what the hell was Barry doing? It wasn't as though Edward had made the first move. That would've been suicidal, but at least it would've made sense. Wasn't there literally a Story that had been beamed into his head about how their love was decades in the making and so perfect that it had defined and redeemed him and about how devoted they were to each other? Barry had literally spent a decade dying repeatedly just in the hopes that he might find her again, so what right did he have to be kissing Edward right now?

"I... I mean, I guess she might mind if one of her Reapers got involved with a Death Criminal but given Kravitz's stellar track record in that department, I don't think My Queen will-"

Edward shoved Barry away from him, panic in his eyes. Stumbling slightly, Barry ended up falling back onto the bed.

"I don't mean the Raven Queen, Barry! I mean your _wife_."

Barry blinked a few times, mouth open in pure surprise. He was quiet for a moment but then he reached for Edward's hand, but didn't actually take it.

"Ed, she knows. I promise, she knows everything. I told her the minute I knew how I felt about you. I... I... I would never do that to either of you."

Edward slowly met Barry's eyes again. He knew Barry wouldn't lie, not about that of all things. He and Lydia had heard the Story and the Song just the same as everyone else. He knew exactly what sort of love he was competing with here. But from the way Barry made it sound... maybe it wasn't a competition.

"She's alright with anything that happens? She knows?"

He wasn't sure he believed that just yet, but if Barry was going to make the claim, then he was going to go along with it.

"More than that. She supports whatever happens, Ed."

He held out a hand and Edward took it tentatively before closing the distance between them far more confidently. If there was nothing standing between him and this man, then he was going to have what he wanted. Barry wrapped his arms around Edward, holding him close. Then he lifted the startled elf into his arms as he moved towards the bed again.

"Now then... Where were we?"

Edward hesitated only a moment more before he pulled Barry in for another kiss, fingers once again tangled in his hair. 

* * *

Edward’s hair was thoroughly mussed by the time they separated once more and he rested his head against Barry’s shoulder. This was... it was good. It was potentially one of the best things that had happened to him in a long, long time. But there were so many questions left in his mind. He sighed softly, closing his eyes. Then he felt Barry shift against him.

“Ed?”

Barry’s arm had settled around his waist at some point and Edward leaned into that contact. Then he spoke, his voice uncharacteristically small.

“Barry, what are we doing?”

The silence hung between them for a long moment before Barry spoke, words stilted.

“I... what... what do you mean? Like... right now or like...?”

Edward had to laugh, even if the sound grated in his ears and choked his throat. Ridiculously adorable man.

“I’m talking big picture. Listen, Barry, I like you. A lot. But I’ve got too much self respect to be your... your side bit of amusement that you play with before you go home to your wife. So... what’s your angle?”

Barry turned, cupping Edward’s cheek in one hand. His eyebrows came together, his eyes meeting Edward’s.

“That’s not... Edward, that’s not what I want at all.”

“No?” Edward all but snapped the word, disbelief. “Even if she knows, that doesn’t make it... equal. I’ve seen arrangements like that. Something where the husband wants some dick on the side and the wife goes along with it because at least it’s not another woman and let me tell you, I’m not about that life.”

Barry pulled back slightly as Edward sat up straighter. Then he did something that surprised Edward more than nearly everything else that had happened today. Nearly, because nothing would surprise him more than that kiss. But now, he reached to put his hand gently on Edward’s and smiled at him.

“First off, if that’s all I wanted, Lup has a strap-on. Second off, she and I sorted this kind of thing out decades ago. We’re poly. It’s not cheating, it’s not a side thing. If... if you want to do this, it would be a real relationship. Not any more or any less than what she and I have, just newer.”

Not less, just newer. The entire idea sounded mad. The idea that somehow, anything he could have would be at the same level as... as... Then he met Barry’s eyes again and felt a mirroring smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

Edward continued to hesitate for a long moment, not really sure if he believed all this or not. Well, no, that was going a bit far. He knew Barry was telling the truth. Barry wasn't the kind of man to lie about these things. But the real question was whether or not Edward's heart was ready to believe it. 

* * *

The next time the door to his cell opened, Edward was halfway to his feet with every intention of moving to meet Barry when he realized it very much was not Reaper Barry Bluejeans standing in the open door. It had been a long time since he had seen this beautiful dark haired woman, her features obscured as they were behind a mask much like the skull of a raven. He managed to check his forward motion, pulling up hard as the door closed behind her.

“Edward Elmenda. Your crimes are many and you have many times defied My will, refusing to enter the Astral Plane at the end of your mortal life, attempting to remove souls from My keeping.”

His false pulse hammered in his ears, overloud in the silences between her words. This sounded like a judgment being rendered, one where he really wasn’t going to like the outcome. He swallowed hard, forcing himself to meet that crimson gaze.

“You have tortured and killed, wielding the arts of necromancy in pursuit of power and amusement.” Then she tilted her head to the side, looking almost like a bemused raven herself. “And yet, despite all of that, my Reapers insist there is good in you and a chance for your very real betterment.”

She gestured at a wall and a seat formed of the stones there. Settling in and adjusting the many layered skirts of her gown, she nodded to him.

“I would have speech with you, Edward Elmenda. I would know the lich that my Reaper has become so enamored with. I would see if you are worthy of the favors he begs for you.”

Somehow, that was better and worse than what he’d been expecting all at once. Edward licked his lips nervously, trying to figure out what it was she wanted to hear. What would get him out of this, out of here?

She was waiting for him to say something and the words were all but screaming in his head, lodged in his throat and threatening to choke him. Everything felt too loud in that lingering silence. Then he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, not needing the air but desperately needing the calm it brought with it.

“Lady Raven Queen, I...”

It would be so easy. So easy to tell her he deserved this, that he deserved his freedom, that he deserved so much after everything he’d been through. To make the same kind of blithe promises that had gotten him through so much of his life. Instead, his shoulders slumped and honesty poured from his lips.

“I don’t know what he sees in me. I’m exactly what you said I am and he… he’s so much better than that.” He paused for a moment. “A month ago, if you’d come here, I would have told you that everything we did could be laid at your feet and at the feet of Istus. That it was your fault for taking Keats from us.”

The Raven Queen leaned forward, hands folded in her lap.

“And now?”

His gaze fell.

“And now, I’ve seen that none of what we did was for him, not really. We were scared and hurting and lashed out. And that doesn’t make it right. If anything, that makes everything we did worse.”

Shaking his head a little, Edward had to wonder if he was even the same person he had been; when his brother was alive, when he ruled Wonderland, when he was thrown in here the first or second time. Were any of these people the same Edward Elmenda who stood here now? He wasn’t sure.

The Raven Queen nodded slowly, gaze still impassive but there was something there that almost felt she was pleased. Almost.

“So then, it would seem that, for now, his assessment is at least a potential truth. Very well. I will remind you of something then before I leave you.” She stood and for a moment, Edward felt a weight forcing him down and heard the cacophony of a flock of ravens so loud that he couldn’t even hear his own thoughts. He dropped to his knees, unable to fight against the force of her power that she was exerting on him. “Should you forget what you have learned, should any of My Reapers come to harm as a result of your actions, remember, Edward Elmenda, that your continued existence is at My sufferance.”

And then she was gone. He fell forward, bracing himself on his hands and knees as he gasped, trying to fight past the feeling like he was being mobbed. Slowly, so slowly, it passed, leaving him laying on his side on the floor with tears in his eyes and a pain throbbing in his chest. 


	5. Chapter 5

It really didn't help in the long run that he was alone for the next day or two. Sure, sure, Barry had popped in once to say the three Reapers were headed off on some mission or other that sounded extremely important and they wouldn't be around until after it was dealt with, but still. Edward was alone with nothing but the darkness and his own thoughts. It was more or less the worst thing possible on the heels of his encounter with the Raven Queen. 

Maybe that had been her plan all along. After all, she determined their missions, didn't she? She had known he would be left alone. And he wanted so badly to be angry at her, to pull up all of his old grievances and fling them back at her as he paced in the darkness. But he couldn't. No, instead all he could think about was that fact that if he misstepped with Barry, if he did anything wrong, she would end him. What sort of footing was that to start a new relationship on? Certainly not a fair one. And did Barry know that the Raven Queen was running around giving shovel talks? Had Taako gotten a similar talking to? Unlikely.

Edward sat on the floor, the stones at his back hard and digging into his spine as he closed his eyes. Maybe he should just trance until someone came. It would be easier than being alone with his own thoughts. It would be easier than trying to figure out where any of them stood. His ears slowly drooped as he let his breathing slow. Anyway, it wasn't like he wouldn't see Barry eventually. They could work this all out together then. Slowly, he fell into one of the meditation patterns he preferred only to be jolted out of it at the sound of a raven.

He pulled himself frantically to his feet, pressing his back into a corner of the room. Pulse hammering in his ears and threatening to burst from his chest, he looked around. Nothing. 

Nothing.

The room was quiet and still, just like always. Then he heard the sound again, distant and muffled by layers of stone and magic between him and the birds high in the rafters and towers of the Eternal Stockade. He exhaled slowly, trying to calm himself back down.

Then the door began to open and all calm was lost. Edward pressed himself even farther into the corner, his eyes on the light just beyond his prison door. The moments passed slowly, like some cruel god of time was purposefully prolonging the magic in the worst way imaginable. And then he saw Barry's smile and relief flooded him. The man was still in his uniform, looking unfairly good in a tailored suit with a black feathered mantle trailing behind him.

"Ed?"

Edward stepped out from where he'd been hiding, trying to smooth the wrinkles out of his tunic.

"Fancy seeing you here, handsome. And all dressed up." And if Edward's hands were shaking a little, maybe Barry just wouldn't notice. "Are you wearing a tie?"

Barry paused, raising one hand to touch the bright red tie that accented his uniform. It was the only bit of color to the otherwise black suit.

"I uh... Lup got it for me. Like it?"

Edward closed the distance between them, running one hand over the smooth silk. Then he hooked his fingers around it and gave a little tug, a grin playing at his lips.

"You know, I think I do."

A bright blush colored Barry's cheeks and he laughed a little, almost nervously. 

"I'll uh... make a note of that. You know... for uh... the future."

Edward's ears flicked up and he laughed, leaning against Barry. How casually this man said things like that. For the future. How easily he cut to the heart of things, whether he knew it or not. Sometimes, that was all Edward needed. A casual reminder that there would be a future and it would be different from the past and the present. After centuries of the same things happening day in and day out, the reminder was an important one. 

Barry slid an arm around his waist, a shy smile there. 

"So, how are you? I know I've been busy lately but..."

Edward leaned into the support Barry offered without a thought. 

"Oh, you know." He waved that off. "Things don't really change all that much around here, darling. I thought you'd noticed."

Barry paused then and Edward's ears flicked back involuntarily. Had he noticed? Edward swallowed and tried to put a bit more polish into his smile, tried to put the truth to the lie he was trying to sell. Everything was fine. Everything was fine and everything was going to be fine and he certainly hadn't been threatened by the death goddess who was also Barry's boss. Certainly not. That would be ridiculous.

"If you say so... but you know if there's something you wanna talk about, you can. I'm here to help if you need it."

They sat on the floor, Barry reaching for the chessboard that had been pushed under the bed. It had been some time since they last played and they each moved to set up their own pieces. Then Barry smiled brightly.

"And you've got first move this time, in case you forgot."

Edward considered his options and picked up a pawn, sliding it forward. Then he looked up slowly. He'd already come to the conclusion that Barry almost definitely didn't know what the Raven Queen had been up to but would telling him even do any good? It would just put another thing to worry about on Barry's plate. And that wasn't remotely fair. None of this was fair. Maybe if he brought it up, though, they could figure out what to do about it. Maybe they could find a way to ease his worries about what she had said and the metaphorical sword that was hanging over his head now, like an executioner just waiting for the word.

A few more moves passed, each of them taking their turn quickly and studying the other's silence rather than the board between turns. Finally Edward exhaled softly and looked down.

"Your boss came to visit the other day. I don't think she's particularly happy with how you're spending your free time."

There. He'd managed to keep his voice level and his tone casual, like it was a joke, like he was amused. It was fine. This was fine.

Barry raised an eyebrow and placed his knight, taking one of Edward's pawns.

"She did? When? Why? Did... What did she say?"

He sounded worried and Edward felt guilty. He felt like he had a rock in his gut and there was nothing he could do to get rid of it.

"A lot of things, honestly." He couldn't meet Barry's eyes, even telling the truth. All he could think about was how stupid this was, about how they shouldn't have to worry about what some goddess thought of him. Not if they had been anyone else. But they weren't. And he'd done the things he'd done, and Barry had lived the life he had. And that was all there was to it. "The short version is she's giving me a chance, which is nice, I suppose. But I also got an extremely dramatic shovel talk and was reminded that I only get to keep existing because she says I do. So that sure was something."

When he finally managed to look up again, it was because Barry hadn't said anything. And kept right on not saying anything. The man was staring at him, eyes wide and mouth slightly open. Not like he didn't believe it, thankfully. More like he did and he didn't know what to do. Well, that was a relief. The boat may have been shitty but at least they were both in the same one. 

"Ed, that's..." Barry paused, visibly searching for the right words, and Edward could have kissed him. It wasn't until that moment that he'd realized just how worried he was, not just about what she'd said but that Barry wouldn't believe it. The man was a Reaper, he was supposed to listen to his goddess, and here he was, trusting Edward's word against hers. "I'm sorry. That's not how... You shouldn't have to deal with shit like this and... I am glad she's giving you that chance though, means she's been listening to what I've been telling her and Kravitz."

Edward went quiet then, a blush coloring his cheeks. It didn't last long though, only until he grinned at Barry and replied, his tone teasing.

"Aw, babe, you tell your boss about me? That's adorable."

* * *

The next time their lips found each other, they weren't even talking about anything big or important. Barry was just venting a little, talking about a bounty they were working on and necromancers who had found a way to create wards that the Reapers couldn't pass through, when Edward brushed his fingers over the back of Barry's hand and he stopped in mid-sentence. There was a questioning look in his eyes for a bare moment before Edward gave him the tiniest nod and their lips met.

It wasn't frantic this time. It wasn't confused or desperate or scared. Instead, it was slow and tentative, an exploration of boundaries and of each other. Barry's hand settled at the small of Edward's back, pulling him closer even as Edward wrapped his arms around Barry's neck. They kissed again and again, each meeting a further affirmation that yes, they both wanted this, they both wanted to be here, doing this, now.

Edward slid into Barry’s lap, straddling him as he deepened the kiss. His ears flicked up slightly and he leaned forward, one eyebrow raised. There was no mistaking the bulge in Barry's jeans. Edward slid his hand down over Barry's chest and stomach, fingering the top band of his jeans for a moment before traveling further down. He heard Barry's breath hitch slightly and looked up to meet his eyes. They stayed like that for a beat, both of them quiet. Then Edward tugged Barry's jeans down so he could palm the erection hidden inside Barry's boxers. He heard the man's breath hitch and grinned, looking up. Whatever Edward Elmenda was expecting in that moment, this wasn't it. Barry pulled back a little, eyes wide and glasses askew. 

"Ed... Edward, what are you doing?"

He reached to adjust his glasses, a blush coloring his cheeks. Edward's ears flicked back in confusion. Had he been reading this situation wrong? No, that didn't feel right. He wanted to be here like this and he had been so sure that Barry did too and...

And yet.

"I thought..."

Barry scrubbed at his face for a moment, looking like he was trying to think. Like he was trying to come to a decision. Edward felt like his gut was dropping out. Was this it? Even after their talk, was this the moment Barry realized he'd made the wrong choice and pulled away again? He turned away slightly, looking towards the ceiling.

"Gods... Ed, I don't... I mean... It's not..." He took another breath. "I want that, yeah. I want all of that but... There's... it's a matter of ethics? And... and abuse of power and... and I really need to talk to Kravitz and get some cases shuffled around and..."

Edward was quiet for a long moment, just listening to Barry's words. Then he took a breath.

"What did I do wrong?"

Silence stretched, filling the room and echoing against the walls. Then Barry cupped Edward's cheeks, kissing him firmly.

"Nothing. You didn't do anything wrong. Gods... Ed, its not that at all. I just... I don't want to take advantage of the fact that I'm technically still the Reaper responsible for your case? I don't even want to feel like I am, if that makes any sense. That's why I need to fix things with Kravitz first. Does that make more sense?"

Did it? Edward leaned into Barry's touch, thinking it through. What was wrong with it if this was what Edward wanted to? If he was the one taking the lead? It wasn't like Barry was abusing his position and it certainly wasn't like he was taking advantage of anything. If anything, there were times when Edward felt like maybe he was the one taking advantage of the fact that Barry was genuinely a good person who, for some reason, saw good in him. Then he met Barry's eyes and had a flash of understanding. Barry was a good person, one with a job he considered important and a position with authority. Of course he didn't even want it to look like he was abusing that. Not only could it get all sorts of messy and potentially risk his position, and by extension his own freedom from punishment in the Eternal Stockade, it could also jeopardize what they were slowly building here. They had to go about this the right way or not at all.

"Yeah, Bar. I think it does." Still, he couldn't help from smirking as he ran one hand along the inside of Barry's thigh. "Doesn't mean I don't still want to get my mouth on you, but I understand if you want me to be patient."

Barry exhaled slowly, his pupils blown wide and his pulse hammering so loud Edward could almost swear he heard it in the quiet of the cell. 

"You're going to be the death of me, you know that?" He said it like he was serious, the words almost overloud in the small room. Then he kissed Edward gently. "Let me fix my jeans, alright, Ed?"

Edward sighed, getting up.

"Alright, alright, but only because you asked nicely." Then, while he watched Barry adjust his jeans, he grinned. "And I can't be the death of you, darling. You and your wife already handled that, last I checked."

"Was..." Barry looked up at him, visibly trying not to laugh. "Was that a lich joke?"

Edward's only response was to grin.

* * *

It was a few weeks later that Barry arrived early in the morning to get Edward. At least, he said it was early and he had a mug of coffee in his hand, so Edward was fairly certain it must, in fact, be early. The plan for the day was simple enough, just the two of them heading down to Neverwinter for lunch and a walk in the park. Edward had every intention of enjoying himself, even if he knew it was a test. Alright, maybe it would be slightly stressful since he did know it was a test and Kravitz would be watching in an abstract sort of way. Whatever the hell that meant. Kravitz had been fairly vague about it, all he said was that he didn't want to intrude on their privacy but that if Edward so much as thought about stepping out of line, he would know.

But that didn't matter in the here and now as he watched Barry walk in, a coffee in each hand and a sleepy smile on his face.

"I wasn't sure how you take it, but you seem like the cream and sugar type. Am I right?"

Edward stood in a fluid motion, reaching for the coffee and sniffing it before kissing Barry lightly.

"Enough cream and sugar that it might as well be ice cream, but this smells amazing, Bar."

He took a long sip of his coffee and reached up to fix his hair one handed. Barry put an arm around him and gestured towards the open door.

“Whenever you’re ready.”

That set Edward back on his heels and he looked at the empty hallway for a long moment. This was happening. It was really happening. Alright, sure, Barry hadn't said where they were going yet, but they really were going somewhere. Together.

He stayed close to Barry's side as they passed through the halls of the Stockade, right until they stopped at a large pair of double doors. That was when Barry reached out into the open air and produced his own scythe. Edward took a half-step back then, nervous despite himself. He wanted so badly to trust Barry, wanted to believe him, but it was so hard to think rationally at the sight of three feet of curved steel that he knew perfectly well was specially enchanted for the sole purpose of hunting people like him. 

"Bar?"

His voice was barely a whisper, soft enough that Barry didn't hear him. Edward took another half step back as Barry step a second hand on the handle of his scythe, turning it slightly. He felt the hard stone against his back as he thumped into it just before Barry brought the scythe down through open air, slashing a portal through to the living world. Opening his hand again, the scythe vanished. Then Barry turned back, a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"So, let's get go-" Until he saw the look on Edward's face. "Ed, are you okay?"

Edward licked his lips, trying to respond, trying to say he was fine. He was absolutely fine. His hands were shaking. He shook his head. He wasn't fine. He wasn't even remotely fine. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, he heard but did not see as Barry closed the distance between them. He felt the warmth of Barry's hand hovering just shy of actually touching his cheek.

"Is this alright?" When Edward nodded, Barry cupped his cheek gently. "Was it the scythe? I didn't think... I should've at least warned you first, huh?"

Edward took a deep breath, eyes still closed, and leaned into that touch. The warmth and solidness was the only thing grounding him.

"Y-you think?"

The sharpness of his response was cut by the fact that he was shaking too hard not to stammer. Barry shifted slightly.

"Take a deep breath and then... count down from ten for me, alright?"

Edward wanted to ask what the point was but he did as he was told, counting slowly. His pulse stopped racing and he opened his eyes to meet Barry's worried gaze. But he felt better.

"Where'd you learn that trick, handsome?"

Barry's laugh was soft as he reached for Edward's hand.

"My therapist back on our homeworld. I've got some pretty bad anxiety. Only numbers don't do it for me. I usually recite the periodic table." Then he shrugged a little. "Didn't realize it would work for other things until Lup had a panic attack a little while after she got a new body."

A panic attack? Edward frowned slightly. What in the world could cause her to have a panic attack? It wasn't like there was anything out there that could actually hurt her. She was a lich and a Reaper and easily the most powerful evocation specialist in the world. Barry saw the questioning look on Edward's face and sighed softly.

"She's claustrophobic. Turns out, a decade in an umbrella will do that to you. We're working on it thought." Then he glanced towards the still-open portal hovering and swirling by the double-doors of the Stockade. "Do you still want to go out? I can figure out a different way to travel, if-"

Edward squeezed Barry's hand gently.

"I can walk through a portal, Bar. I'm a big boy. Just warn me next time the scythe is coming out. Deal?"

Barry kissed Edward's cheek, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"Deal."


	6. Chapter 6

Stepping out of a Reaper portal was uncomfortable to say the least but if things worked out it might have to become something Edward got more used to. Or at least got to the point where just seeing a scythe didn't put him into a complete state of fight or flight. But they were in Neverwinter now with the uneven cobblestones under their feet and the rising towers of the city above them. Barry let his scythe fade back into wherever he kept it when he wasn't using it and reached for Edward's hand.

"Come on. I got us reservations at this cute little cafe. I think you're gonna really love it."

The cafe in question was perhaps a bit kitschy with very pastoral theme to it but the menu was spectacularly full of options. They sat outside under the shade of a wide umbrella and Edward kept looking up at the bright open sky so far above them.

After a while of looking through the choices, Edward ended up letting Barry pick his meal.

"Surprise me. After all, its been a pretty long time since I was eating regularly, you know?"

And he hadn't been particularly picky before that, but Barry didn't need to know that. They were talking quietly, Barry telling a story about their cat and how she could apparently open doors, when a woman walked up with a walking stick in one hand. She was a wood elf dressed in forest browns and greens, probably a ranger or a druid, and there was a cloth covering her eyes. Odd, that. Then she spoke and all of the color drained out of Edward's face.

"Barry? Barry Bluejeans, right?" When Barry confirmed, the woman positively lit up. "I thought I recognized your voice." Pause. "I'm sorry, you probably don't remember me. I'm Antonia. I was with Lord Sterling when he went into Wonderland and... and I just wanted to thank you for everything. For getting us all out of there, I mean. I didn't really have a chance to thank you properly back then."

Barry's gaze briefly flicked over to Edward and Edward found himself sliding down in his chair, almost trying to escape under the table. This right here? This was his worst nightmare.

"It was nothing, honestly."

And there was Mister Perfect coming in with the modesty. Dammit, the man was one of the saviors of the multiverse and here he was--

"I was really just there to get my family out. The fact that I saved everybody else was a bonus."

And here he was admitting he'd been being selfish? Maybe? And it only made him look better in the eyes of the adoring populous. Edward wished he could just put his head down on the table and disappear. It wasn't that he was jealous of Barry. They'd all earned this. The problem was that in this particular case, they'd earned it by beating _him_. It was hard not to be sort of miserable when you were listening to someone talk about how grateful they were to have been saved from... you. And she had no idea. Because she was blind. Because he'd taken her eyes and some of her years.

She laughed a little, leaning heavily on her walking stick.

"I know that now. From the Story and all that. But it still means a lot. I don't know what would've happened if we'd been stuck in there much longer."

Barry glanced over at Edward then, his expression hard to read. Edward couldn't meet his eyes. All he could do was stare at the table and hope this would be over soon. Then Antonia turned slightly towards him as the table squeaked. Her ears flicked slightly and her expression turned surprised.

"Oh! I'm sorry, I didn't realize I was interrupting something." She paused for a moment. "And I didn't mean to ignore anyone. I just didn't realize..."

Edward looked up at Barry, silently pleading for some sort of rescue. If he spoke, she would know who he was.

"It's alright, Antonia. Really."

There was a pause then as he met Edward's eyes. They couldn't keep this up much longer and they both knew it. And anyway, he should tell her something. Maybe figure out his way around an apology? Edward took a breathe and looked up at her, really looking at her now. Yes, he could remember the sight of her standing at the Wheel of Sacrifice, the look on her face when the wheel had come up eye. The only solace he could take was that it wasn't he who had actually asked for both of hers, that had been his sister. Still though, he had been a part of it and he had done things just as bad if not worse. He could take what was coming and he could pull himself up and apologize.

Even if that apology was just words.

"Antonia," he said her name slowly, not really sure that he should. "I... I just wanted to..."

His words trailed off as her back stiffened and the points of her ears flicked. She recognized his voice. Just as he'd expected, she knew who he was.

"Ed," Barry looked surprised, said his name fast. He didn't sound upset, just worried. "Antonia, wait, let me explain."

Barry started to raise a hand but to do what, Edward would never find out. Largely because in the next instant he was on the ground in a tumble of elf and chair, a crunching sound echoing in his ears and something liquid dripping down his face. He put a hand up and yelped as he touched his nose. His fingers came away bloody. When he looked up, Antonia was still standing over him, her right fist spattered with what had to be his blood.

"You-- you brought him here. You-- Barry, I thought-- I thought-- "

Edward froze there on the ground. He was prey in the sights of a predator and if he so much as moved, he was going to get hit again, that much he was absolutely certain of. She leaned in towards him and he threw his hands up to block his face.

The next blow didn't come and when he looked again, half expecting Barry to be between them, he saw another man suddenly standing at Antonia's side. He was a half-elf with shaggy red hair and a beard, with an archery guard on his forearm that showed as he shifted, the fabric of his sleeves pulling back.

"Toni, are you alright? What happened?"

He put a hand on her arm and she moved against him immediately. And that's when Edward recognized him. He'd been there as well, part of their team. She was the druid, he was the ranger, Rowan, the one looking for a dog's collar for whatever reason. So, they'd gotten together after Wonderland. That was nice, at least. Certainly not something he'd caused, but nice just the same. 

"It's him, Rowan. The one from-- from that place."

She couldn't even say it now. And he couldn't blame her one bit. It was hard to think about that though, hard to be empathetic to the situation of another, when there was a rather large and angry looking man looking down at him now.

"You..." Rowan's voice turned to a growl and he took a half-step forward. "What are you doing here?"

And then Barry was there, pulling him to his feet.

"He's here with me. We were just having lunch, that's all."

Rowan looked Barry over for a moment before his eye brows came together, a frown turning the corners of his mouth down.

"You were there. You're one of the Birds. And... and you brought _him_ here? You're siding with him?"

Barry put a hand on Edward's shoulder but kept his attention squarely focused on Rowan.

"I'm not siding with anybody, I was just saying-"

Then Rowan cut him off sharply, firmly planting himself between them and Antonia. 

"You were just saying that he was with you, so it's alright." Rowan's voice was a growl, his hand near his belt where Edward could see an indentation in the leather. Thankfully the man didn't have a weapon today, but he might have. And who knew how this would have gone then. "You think you just can do anything and say it's alright be you're one of the Birds, is that it?"

Then to Barry's clear surprise, the man turned over his shoulder and shouted.

"Lord Sterling!"

Barry's grip tightened as Edward moved slightly closer.

"Barry, we should just go and be done with this. Honestly, lunch isn't worth this. We can just have something back at the Stockade. I don't mind, really."

But they were interrupted as the crowd parts and Lord Artemis Sterling walked over, head raised and shoulders back. He exuded confidence in a way Edward knew perfectly well he hadn't when he'd first gone to Wonderland. Which, on one hand had been their doing in taking those years from him. At least, in part. That didn't make him feel any better about it though. Particularly not with the way the man was glaring at him.

He too rested a hand on Antonia's shoulder and paused to touch Rowan's arm briefly before he looked Edward and Barry over, his jaw tight.

"I understand, Doctor Bluejeans, that you and your family are to thank for the fact that my city still stands and that my friends and I survived Wonderland. Which is why I will render so kind a verdict as I intend to now. I will not insist on the destruction of lich Edward so long as the both of you leave my city and do not return. Do you understand?"

Barry was quiet for a moment but then he sighed and nodded.

"Yeah, I understand. Come on, Ed. Let's see if they can pack our lunch to go instead."

* * *

Barry was fuming when they got back to the Astral Plane and Edward wished he could understand why. Shouldn't they have expected something like this? Lots of people had gone through Wonderland over the centuries it had been in operation, after all. It wasn't like any of them had any obligation to extend the same offer of forgiveness that Barry had. If anything, they had every reason to hate him and his sister forever for the things they had done. 

When they got back to Edward's cell, he had half a mind to just tell Barry to go home. Then he sat on the edge of Edward's bed and looked up at him, eyes shadowed and distant. Looking up, he gave Edward a half smile.

"I'm sorry about all of this. I just... I didn't think that..." He sighed. "I keep forgetting that other people aren't seeing what I see. They're not watching you go through all of this every day, working out the good and the bad and... And I guess I forgot that they're not gonna just jump to forgive you even though..."

Edward looked away. He didn't deserve to be forgiven for any of that and Barry... well, he hoped Barry didn't realize it. Because then he would be gone and probably the Raven Queen would do just like she said and who knew what would happen to Lydia. 

Lydia... He needed to talk to her again but what was he going to say? How was he going to explain any of this? He couldn't, that was how. He really didn't have any one he could talk to other than Barry and Lydia if he was careful about what he said, for now anyway. He needed someone else, someone he knew could be objective about all of this. But he didn't have someone who could do that for him. Not any more. 

"How about we just finish our lunch, Bar? Getting out was nice and all but this is fine too."

Barry exhaled slowly and then leaned back.

"Yeah, you're right. I'll just... I'll figure out somewhere else, I guess. For next time. If... I mean, if you want there to be a next time."

Edward's ears flicked back and he moved towards Barry quickly.

"Of course I want there to be a next time, Bar. How clear do I have to make it that I want this?"

He put his hands on Barry's shoulders, leaning in to kiss him, and for a moment they both stay like that. With their foreheads touching and Barry's eyes closed, they stayed there in silence. Then Barry sighed softly.

"I know that. I do. And I guess... I just need to remember I can't expect other people to see what I see."

When it looked like he was going to stay there, Edward pulled him to his feet and grabbed the blanket off the bed. Spreading it out on the stone floor, he gestured grandly.

"Here, darling, why don't you forget all that and join me at this fantastic, dare I even say _wonderful_ picnic I've thrown together just for you?"

It wasn't much and it was all he could think of in the moment but it worked. It got Barry to laugh and smile and they sat on the floor with the food from the cafe, just enjoying each other's company. As far as Edward was concerned, it was perfect. 

* * *

"Do you ever think about it anymore, Lydia?"

Edward always did his best to ignore the Reapers in the room when they got to have their rare conversations. Lup lounged against the wall, for all the world not paying the slightest bit of attention to either of them. Kravitz, on the other hand, was watching Lydia intently. That difference didn't escape his notice in the slightest, even with his attention focused on his twin. It only furthered his suspicion that they were getting different treatment. Which didn't make any sense. Lydia was... Alright, yes, Wonderland had been her idea. Becoming liches had been her idea. Escaping, everything in the Celestial Plane, trying to become gods. All of it had been Lydia's plan at the bottom of it. But that didn't mean she was a bad person. At least, he was pretty sure it didn't mean that. She was his sister, his twin. She was the other half of him that he couldn't live without. Right?

She arched one perfect eyebrow and leveled an impassive look on him.

"Think about what, brother dear?"

Of course she didn't know. There were so many things behind them now. Things they hadn't thought about in centuries were right there at the forefront of his mind. But this was different, this was far more recent.

"Wonderland. Do you think about it?"

She leaned back in her seat with a dramatic sigh, staring off into the distance.

"All the time. Don't you? The lights and the color and adoring audience. What's not to love? To say nothing of the power." Her voice dropped to a whisper and she smiled, leaning forward again. "I can't wait to go back and take back up our rightful place."

Edward tensed slightly. She couldn't mean that, right? Not the way it sounded. That was... That was... 

That was exactly how she meant it. Lydia didn't think about the people they'd hurt, the things they'd taken, the blood they'd shed. She thought about the power they'd held. It didn't match the girl he remembered from so long ago at all. It didn't match the Lydia he thought he knew. 

There had to be something he was missing. An angle. A plan. She was just... she was doing something and it would make sense eventually. He just had to stick it out and see. Everything would be fine. 

"What about you, brother? Feeling the lights and music calling to you too?"

Edward sighed a little, gazing off into the distance. 

"I don't know, sister dear. Sometimes, I think I could use with a bit of quiet." He paused then. "Though I would give a lot for a new outfit right about now."

That got her laughing and put them back on more solid ground. There. Just like he thought. Everything was fine. He could walk this tightrope. He could have his past and his future, Lydia _and_ Barry. Everything was going to be alright.


	7. Chapter 7

Kravitz opened the door, a frown on his face though he wasn't actually put out, merely attempting to convey a certain strictness and sense of dignity. Based on the look on Edward's face, though, it wasn't working.

"This pass is good for this weekend and this weekend only, Edward Elmenda. Understand that you are to be back in this cell by noon on Monday. Any later than that and you will be considered an active bounty and pursued by the servants of the Raven Queen with all due efficiency. You are not to go anywhere without either Reaper Barry or Reaper Lup present and you are not to engage in any form of necromantic activity. Is that clear?"

Behind Kravitz, Barry grinned and gave Edward a thumbs up. For his part, Edward wasn't sure if he wanted to kiss Barry or just put his head in his hands and sigh over how ridiculous all of this was. But instead he nodded, biting back the question about whether or not Barry was considered necromantic activity. He knew how much Barry had gone through to get this chance for them and if it worked out, it might become a more permanent arrangement. The only thing that worried him was Lup, also standing behind Kravitz with a relaxed expression and a fantasy Starbucks in her hand. Well, that and the fact that despite the months that had passed since Neverwinter, it was still fresh in his mind.

"I understand. And I'll remember the rules. Best behavior and all that."

For a moment, Kravitz narrowed his eyes. Then he held out the actual physical piece of paper that read Astral Plane Weekend Pass in large letters across the top. There were some particulars beneath that, including a mark that Edward assumed was the Raven Queen's sign off on it. He accepted it and it began to glow before it faded into his skin. That same mark appeared on the inside of his wrist, glowing dully for a moment before it vanished as well. He stared down at where the mark had been and then rubbed at his wrist uncomfortably.

"What was that for?"

Kravitz smiled just slightly.

"Partially to make sure you uphold your promises and partially to make sure you have a corporeal form while you're on the Prime Material Plane, since you can't just project one and we don't have the time to make you one the long way like Barry usually does. Not unless you want your little vacation to take place in several months instead and that only _after_ we've managed to locate a sample of your biological material."

Edward went pale and then shook his head. He didn't even want to think about the idea of his own _biological material_ from his actual body that he'd actually died in. With that done, Kravitz moved out of the way, headed off to go get some of his own work done before he went home. That left Edward alone with Lup and Barry. He kept glancing at Lup, almost like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Sure, Barry had said she knew and approved but that didn't mean it was true. After all, truth was subjective. It was entirely possible that Barry had thought he'd explained things to Lup but she didn't see things the same way. Or it was possible that Barry hadn't actually told Lup anything and just assumed she would understand. It was also possible that Barry was just playing with him... but that one seemed less likely. Barry was too... too... too _Barry_ to do anything like that.

So, when Barry reached for his hand, Edward took it and followed them down the hall. Lup was sipping her iced coffee the whole way, idly talking about what she was going to make for dinner. One of her ears flicked back towards them and she turned to look at Edward.

"So, my guy, how do you feel about spice? Good tolerance for it or nah?" When Edward didn't answer right away, his throat choked with something very like fear but probably closer to an intense distrust, she continued on. "I mean, it's chill if you can't handle that shit. Barry sure can't. You should've seen him the last time I got him to try a vindaloo? Poor guy turned into a tomato. Just bright fucking red, my dude. And I felt awful because it's not like he can just chug a glass of milk like the rest of us."

Barry was turning bright red from her teasing at that precise moment so Edward felt like he had a pretty good idea what he would've looked like. That wasn't what he was worried about though. Was this friendly behavior or was it a veiled threat? It didn't have the cold fury her voice had once held for him, but he knew all the same that she could burn him to ash without a thought. She'd killed him with fire and an _umbrella_ once. He didn't even want to know what she could do with more options at hand.

He needed to answer the question. That much was patently true. And he needed to thread the needle carefully, keep himself... well, as alive as he was. But he also didn't remember if he liked spicy food. When would he have had it last? Most of what they'd eaten when they were alive were cheap stews and stale bread ends. He'd bought so many day-old loaves from the baker that he didn't even want to think about it.

"I... don't know."

His tone was subdued. Enough so that Barry turned to look at him, worry furrowing his brow. Edward shook his head a little and Barry just squeezed his hand, trying to reassure. Lup turned all the way at the quiet admission, seeming to rapidly come to a decision.

"How about I make a stew? You know the one, Bear. Takes basically all day and I don't have to do a thing to it."

Barry nodded, a smile on his face.

"You'll love this one, Ed. Promise. Lup makes a great stew."

Edward made a quiet sound of agreement and only flinched a little when Barry reached for his scythe to cut open a portal home.

"Alright," Lup gestured broadly around the house. "Guest room's down the hall. Kitchen's downstairs. If you need anything, let one of us know and uh... Yeah, just skip the basement if you wanna follow the rules Skeletor laid out for you, cool?"

Edward nodded slowly, not really wanting to say more. He still wasn't quite convinced that Lup wasn't going to turn on him. Barry was still holding his hand though and he was pretty sure Lup wouldn't kill him while Barry was in the room, at least. So he had that going for him.

"Come on, Ed, let's get you settled in."

They were halfway down the hall before Edward heard Lup yell from the bottom of the stairs.

"And Bear, if you wanna stay with Edward tonight, go for it! I'll snuggle the cat!"

Edward's ears flicked straight up and a blush shot colored his cheeks and straight up his ears. Head in his hands, he followed Barry the rest of the way to the cozy little guest room tucked at the end of the hall. It was a small enough room but it had a large and plush looking bed, a dresser topped with a mirror, and a closet. The windows were open and sunlight streamed in. For a long moment, Edward was entranced by that sight. How long had it been since he'd seen the sun? Between the Astral Plane and the Celestial Plane and Wonderland and just... all of it, how long had it truly been since he, a _sun elf_ , had actually seen the sun for any sort of extended period of time. Not since...

Barry stood behind him and settled his arms around Edward's waist, resting his forehead against Edward's shoulder. That was right, he didn't need to do this alone. And if he wanted, he could even go outside. They could go outside together. Turning in Barry's arms, Edward looked up at him, a hopeful expression on his face.

"Do we have enough time before it gets dark to go for a walk? We don't need to go far, it's just that..."

When his voice trailed off, Barry leaned in to kiss him gently.

"Absolutely, Ed."

They headed outside together, walking out into the streets of Raven's Roost. The town was still very much in the process of rebuilding but their end of town was solid, with the wood and rope bridges that connected the various rises of the town solid and safe. On the next rise over, children were out playing, Barry and Lup's own neighbors were out taking care of chores, working on things around the house. A little boy peaked over a fence and waved to Barry. Barry chuckled and waved back before reaching for Edward's hand.

"So, anything you wanted to see in particular or do you just want the tour?"

Edward took Barry's offered hand and gave it a little squeeze as he tilted his face up to the sky. It was honestly just nice to feel the sun.

"The tour sounds delightful. As long as it stays outside."

Barry turned and kissed Edward's cheek, surprisingly him enough that his cheeks turned pink.

"Outside it is." Then Barry quirked an eyebrow. "Are you wearing glitter?"

Edward tilted his head to the side, momentarily confused. Then he laughed.

"What? No, no. I have freckles. I'm a Sun Elf, Barry. Have you never seen a Sun Elf before?"

"Ed, babe, I'm an alien, remember. And Lup's a High Elf, so no."

When he moved again, the sun glittered off his skin, just like every other Sun Elf he'd ever met. Then he tugged on Barry's hand.

"Come on, I can show you more of my freckles later, handsome. Let's get this tour going."

The tour itself was actually fairly boring other than a few highlights. There was a bakery Edward couldn't wait to check out later, particularly once he'd gotten a good look at the cupcakes in the window. One of his besetting sins was a preference for the decadent, after all, and what was more decadent than a chocolate cupcake with a chocolate ganache? There were also several memorials to the rebellion he'd heard bits and pieces about. It wasn't until that moment, standing in front of a statue of a tall human woman with broad shoulders, a kerchief tying her hair back, and a war hammer held casually in one fist, that he remembered what they'd truly stolen from Magnus Burnsides. 

The fact that that was also where Barry momentarily stepped away to talk to one of his neighbors while Edward read the plaque at the base of the statue? Well, that just meant that he was functionally alone when the heavy hand landed on his shoulder and forcibly turned him around.

He looked Magnus Burnsides in the face. The man was visibly furious, one massive hand on that lance of his, the one they'd fought over when he'd stolen Magnus' body. Magnus shoved him back, almost to the point where Edward's back was pressed against the statue. He stumbled against the base of it, landing very much sprawled at the feet of Julia Burnsides. That was when Magnus paused and Edward took his opportunity.

"Barry. I'm with Barry. He wanted to show me around and-"

Magnus actually drew the chance lance then, pointing the tip at Edward's chest.

"Like I'm gonna believe that. Where's your sister?"

He lowered the weapon until the point where it was just barely pressing into Edward's skin.

"She's not here! I'm telling the truth!"

Edward muttered a word in the elvish of his youth and vanished from the spot, reappearing several feet behind Magnus in a puff of mist. Magnus whirled, weapon still upraised, and Edward raised both of his hands in a surrender.

"I'm not here to hurt anyone! I'm just spending the weekend at Barry and Lup's house and that's it. Please just... just leave me alone!"

Magnus sheathed his weapon and grabbed Edward roughly by the arm, tugging him in the direction of Lup and Barry's house.

"We'll see about that."

They hadn't gotten that far before Magnus spotted Barry still cheerfully talking to the halfling woman from before and dragged Edward over there. Before Edward could open his mouth to say something, Magnus shouted.

"Hey, Barry. I think one of your prisoners escaped again."

His grip on Edward's arm was crushingly tight but his tone was almost amused. If it wasn't for the fact that Edward could understand why Magnus hated him so much, he would've called the man a bully. Instead, he just waited for Barry to turn around and gave him a little smile, relief plain on his face. For half a second, Barry looked poleaxed. Then he seemed to realize what he was seeing and held up a hand.

"Magnus, its okay. I promise, its alright. Ed's here with me." His gaze flicked to Magnus' tight grip for a moment and his brow furrowed. "Let him go, Mags."

Magnus looked down at Edward, visibly hesitating.

"Did he get you with a spell? Is that it? Because I can call Lup if that's what's up."

Edward bristled at the suggestion, ready to snap that he would never. The implication that he would do something like that to Barry, that he could even if he wanted to, was hard for him to swallow. But then he looked up at Magnus again and his cheeks went pale. Of course Magnus believed that of him. Magnus had every reason to think he was like that.

He had been like that.

Barry sighed though and closed the distance between them, reaching for Edward's hand.

"Magnus, I appreciate that you think you're helping but I promise I'm fine, I'm not under a spell, and even if Ed had tried, I'm more than capable of resisting it. Wouldn't be much of a Reaper if it was that easy to take me down."

Magnus let Barry pull Edward away and he only just barely didn't hide the first chance he got. Magnus was still glaring, still looked furious. There was no trust there, no kindly disposed feelings towards Edward at all. Barry sighed a little and squeezed Edward's hand gently, trying to reassure.

"Alright, so you're not charmed. Sure, I'll buy that. But what is _he_ doing _here_?"

Barry took a breath and then let it out.

"He's out on parole and he's staying with me and Lup." Then he paused, visibly hesitating. "I'll explain the rest later, Mags. Just, leave Ed alone, okay? And if you don't trust me, ask Kravitz or Lup."

Then Barry turned away, leading Edward back towards the house. There was something nagging at Edward as they walked, the pieces that Barry had left out. The whys of everything that he hadn't told Magnus.

"Barry?"

Barry turned slightly, giving Edward something like a smile.

"Sorry, babe. Magnus is... He's a lot sometimes. He didn't hurt you, did he?"

Edward shook his head a little.

"I don't think so. At least, nothing that broke the skin." He looked down at his sore arm and sighed. "You know, this isn't the way I wanted to find out this construct body could bruise."

His tone was understandably more than a bit aggrieved. Enough that some of the old cadences slipped back in. For a moment, he sounded like the lich who had ruled Wonderland and it made him feel sicker. His ears flicked back and he looked down.

"Maybe I should just go back to the Stockade."

Barry stopped him in his tracks with a hand on his shoulder and then spun him around. Their eyes met and Edward realized there was worry in Barry's.

"Ed, no. You don't mean that." Pause. "Right? I mean... You've been putting in all this work. One little set back is... It's nothing."

Edward looked down, not quite meeting Barry's eyes. Then he sighed, the sound conveying far more frustration than words alone could.

"I don't know what I mean, Barry. Sometimes, I feel like I'm making all sorts of progress and then other times I'm just..." He took a shaky breath. "I just keep thinking about Antonia and I'm not completely sure that Magnus is wrong."

Barry shook his head and leaned in to kiss Edward gently.

"The fact that you're seeing how bad things were means Magnus is wrong. The fact that you're even thinking about right and wrong and all of this means you're making progress. And yeah, it's gonna be rough and it's not always gonna be linear, but you're still in a better place than you were." Then he reached for Edward's hand, squeezing it gently. "How about we get some of those cupcakes I saw you eyeing and then head home?"


End file.
